


Again

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10261262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set Spring 2017; Marry me. Again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Today's the fourth anniversary of my posting my first story for this fandom. To mark the occasion, I'm posting the March story (or at least part of it) early. The other two chapters will be posted in regular intervals until the end of the month

What did you say to the woman who had saved you time and again mostly from yourself, to the woman who at various times had sacrificed her own future, her time, her energy and especially her dignity for you, to the woman who you loved more than your own life, to the woman without who you wouldn’t want to live?

Normally, people complained about his wordiness, about his talking too much. However for once, he found himself lacking words. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t know what to say about her – he enjoyed singing her praises in (semi) public, had held an entire speech about her accomplishments, their (hi)story and his love for her – but this was different. These weren’t words about her, these were words to her.

There was so much he wanted to say, but every word felt inadequate. So too much boiled down to nothing. He started to doubt his sanity as he stared at the sheet in front of him that contained phrases, single words and a few sentences – some crossed off again, some edited, some still untouched. It was a mess, a cluster of thoughts, ideas, memories. It was a mirror image of his mind.

What had he been thinking when he had asked her to marry him again?

Over the years, the thought had come up a few times.

On their 20th anniversary when they had overcome so many obstacles, had accomplished so much, when he had finally had the money to give her the ring he had wanted to give her over twenty years ago, he had considered presenting the ring with the question, but had chickened out because there wouldn’t have been a way for it to happen without the media finding out and turning it into a scandal somehow.

On the 25th anniversary, he had considered himself lucky to still have her by his side. Hence the thought, when it had popped up as usual, had been dismissed just as fast. He hadn’t wanted to push his luck.

Five years later and every year since – with the exception of campaign years – he had entertained the notion of renewing their vows, but it had never evolved past the fantasy. He had never even mentioned it to her in passing.

So it hadn’t been planned. It had just happened in the middle of a quiet evening at home when she had been passionately arguing a point.

 

_“Marry me.”_

_She paused mid-word, closed her mouth and raised an eyebrow._

_“Again,” he added._

_She eyed him doubtingly, then lowered her gaze for a moment before looking at him again with a thoughtful expression. “I’m not sure.”_

_He groaned, threw his head back and covered his face with his hands for a moment. “Looove…” he drew out the O._

_“No, seriously,” she said, taking one of his hands in hers. “Are you sure?”_

_Holding her gaze with his, he nodded. “As sure as I was in 1973.”_

_“Then yes, I will marry you,” she agreed. “But…”_

_He growled at her, but she just laughed._

_“Sorry. Just hear me out.”_

_Once more, he nodded._

_“If we do this, we do it for us. No announcement, no invitations, no witnesses.”_

_“Chelsea?” he inquired._

_She shook her head. “No, this is between us,” she insisted. “Just you and me and a minister. We keep this as quiet and low-key as possible. I won’t see this marriage dragged through the mud again. I don’t want it to be called a PR stunt, fake or an arrangement.”_

_He squeezed her hand. Her reservations and reasons were sensible and completely understandable._

_When he had blurred out the request, he obviously hadn’t thought that far, hadn’t considered the implications, ramifications and logistics of it. However as usual, she was, of course, correct._

_He hated that their life had become a high-wire act that everybody was judging and watching for a mistake or any cause to attack or throw dirt at them._

_If they really did this – and now that it was on the table, he truly wanted it to happen – the event shouldn’t be cheapened by anybody or anything. So finding a trustworthy minister and going on vacation at a remote corner of the world for a few days sounded like a good idea._

_Yes, this wedding would include a honeymoon of the traditional kind. That he would insist on._

 

She hadn’t fought him on that at all.

For the date, their anniversary had been out of question – too many people were on the look-out for them on that day. As an alternative, she had suggested the day of his first proposal. As it seemed only fitting, he had gladly agreed and had started planning a week-long trip for late spring shortly after.

The Secret Service and their aides had been informed that they were going on vacation for a week – two days before the ceremony to allow for on-site organization and four days after the ceremony as a honeymoon. It might seem short, but they couldn’t steal more time from their schedules which were still busy despite them being private citizens.

He had picked the location after taking their minister at home into confidence. The clergyman had discreetly asked around for somebody who fit the requirements – access to a church in an outlying location, time at the chosen date, a willingness to perform the ceremony – and was trustworthy.

Once he had the name and contact data, he had made the arrangements on the phone, and in person alone once they had arrived at their chosen destination. Officially, they were scheduled for a private prayer.

He had also booked them a table at small restaurant for the evening. It was all arranged. If only the vow writing would go as smoothly…

He had no idea how hers was coming along. She had spent part of the flight scribbling on a legal pad, and he knew she had not wasted the time while he had met with the minister. So chances were she was done or as good as done whereas he didn’t even have an acceptable draft, yet.

Right now, she was taking a bath, and he tried very hard not to think about it for it led to thoughts about tomorrow’s preparation and a discussion they had a few weeks ago when coming across a fashion show on TV.

 

_“I hope you won’t be disappointed,” she said._

_“About what?”_

_“I’m not going to wear a wedding dress.”_

_For reasons of secrecy alone, he hadn’t expected her to, but so far, they hadn’t discussed this point. “Darling, you could wear a burlap sack, and I wouldn’t be disappointed. You said this was about us. Then remember that, to me, you’re always beautiful. Just like the first time, I don’t care about the details. The only thing I cared about then was you showing up and saying ‘I do’. That hasn’t changed in the last four decades. I love you. The rest is just background music.”_

_He leaned over and kissed her softly._

_“Charmer,” she accused him playfully. “But it’s good to know. I promise to find something fitting the occasion to wear underneath that burlap sack, though.”_

_He growled at her. “Tease.”_

_“One of the reasons you love me.”_

_He couldn’t deny it._

 

She had even had the audacity to mention in passing that she had found the perfect clothes to accompany the burlap some days ago, knowing full well that he would spend the time until he would actually get to see what she had picked picturing her in various pieces of lingerie. It didn’t do anything for his concentration when it came to finish writing his vow.

The only thing he had settled on were the last words: I love you until the end of time.


	2. Chapter 2

When she woke up, she had no idea what time it was, couldn’t even make an educated guess. Not that it mattered. She had no obligations today, nowhere to be, nothing to do but enjoy her time with her husband who, as a glance to the other side of the bed confirmed, was still asleep.

Having no intention of waking him, she settled on her side, facing the window, and relished the tranquility of a lazy, sunny morning. There hadn’t been enough of those in their lifetime together.

Snuggling deeper into her pillow, she smiled. This was the right, the best way to start a honeymoon. She still couldn’t believe that they had done it, that he had done it. That he had the guts to try again after it had taken so long for her to accept his proposal over forty years ago, but here they were, married again – without ever having divorced like so many people had predicted twenty or even thirty years ago.

She looked at her left hand, marveling at the new ring that her husband had put there.

 

_Before he opened the door of the church, he reached for her hand and carefully removed the ring she wore._

_Seeing her confusion and anticipating her protest, he spoke before she could. “You’ll get it back. I promise to keep it safe, but for now, it has to go.”_

_“But we agreed…” she started only to be cut off by him with a kiss._

_“Indulge me, please.”_

_She sighed in resignation, knowing she was unable to resist him._

 

They had agreed on “no rings”, on keeping the ones they had as the ceremony wasn’t about starting anew, but about affirming what they had, what they meant to each other.

She had honored their agreement – unless one wanted to be nitpicky. She had chosen a small sundial as her wedding gift to him. Although it was and could be worn as a ring, she had it fashioned as a bracelet. The piece was engraved with various years that marked important events in their life, such as their first meeting, Chelsea’s birth, the presidential inaugurations and her entering the senate.

She hadn’t taken it with her to the church, but had presented it to him once they had returned late in the evening after a romantic dinner in a small restaurant by the sea. 

He had organized the perfect simple yet truly romantic wedding. He might not always be the most organized man in the world, but he could work magic if properly motivated.

His eyes had been watery with emotions since they had left their bungalow to head to the church, but he had held it together. When she had put the bracelet on his wrist, though, and explained the symbolism of sunshine and time, the tears had started to flow quietly.

 

_She kissed the tears away tenderly before holding him close while he shivered, overwhelmed by feelings._

_“Thank you,” he rasped, his face buried in the crook of her neck._

_After a while, he pulled back and studied the piece of jewelry on his wrist closely. “It’s perfect,” he said. “Just like you.”_

_She opened her mouth to point out that she had too many flaws for that particular adjective to be fitting, but was stopped by him shaking his head._

_“You are,” he insisted. “For me, you are.”_

 

He had said essentially the same thing in more words earlier during the ceremony.

She knew he had struggled with his vow even more than he had done with his first inauguration speech. It hadn’t been easy for her either.

Over the years, they had perfected the art of communicating nonverbally, usually let their eyes and faces do the talking. Words had become almost unnecessary as a means to express emotions between them. Their vows could have consisted of nothing more than “I love you”, and they would have expressed more than any epic novel ever could. However, they had decided to actually speak of their love for and commitment to each other.

The result had been the most intimate, touching and emotional monologues either of them had ever given. It had made her very glad that she had insisted on no witnesses.

He had thanked her for her courage, for taking a chance on him, for giving him another chance more than once, for not taking any bullshit (she had had to laugh at that one), for standing up to and for him, for never letting him go, for kicking his butt when he needed it, and most of all for loving him. He had told her his life had been enriched by her, that he considered himself blessed to have her by his side, and that he tried to be worthy of her every day. He had promised to protect and to love her for all eternity.

When he had closed with “I love you until the end of time” and had slid the ring on her finger, she had been close to crying herself.

After voicing her gratitude for him not being afraid of her, for believing in her, for allowing her to be herself, for always having her back, for making her laugh and brightening her life, for working with her and for them, for his perseverance and persistence and for loving her, she had repeated his last words, recognizing and accepting them as a fitting substitute for the traditional “I do”.

As she played with the ring, enthralled by the way it twinkled in the sunlight, she felt movement behind her, and a moment later, an arm was wrapped around her naked waist, pulling her against the warm and equally naked body of her husband.

He pressed his lips against her shoulder. “Good morning.”

She hummed and turned to face him. “It certainly is.” Snuggling closer to him, she kissed him languidly.

As he reciprocated, answering her kiss as unhurriedly as she gave it, he slowly rolled on his back, taking her with him in his embrace.

She had to smile. Sneaky man. He loved her on top.

 

_Naked except for his ring and bracelets, he took a few steps backward, never letting go of her, until his legs collided with the bed. Then he sat down and pulled her astride onto his lap._

_The position allowed not only for close contact, but also for them to kiss easily and their hands to roam the other’s body freely. Both of which they made use of equally. His hand trailing over her waist and hips down to her behind whereas she caressed his neck and drew random patterns on his back._

_Despite their arousal – the proof of which was undeniable with their pelvises pressed close together – neither was in any hurry to reach physical fulfillment. Tonight, their lovemaking was more an expression of their emotions, their feelings for each other than it was about lust. It was the physical affirmation of the words spoken hours ago._

_They had taken their time undressing each other, had caressed and kissed each square inch of skin that was revealed, had taken inventory of their scars and wrinkles, all the while exchanging whispers of love._

_From the moment he had slipped the jacket off her shoulders, they hadn’t stopped touching. They had a habit of maintaining a physical connection whenever they stood, sat or walked next to each other, but today, it was an undeniable need. The day had left them emotionally raw – purely happy, but raw nonetheless. How they had made it through dinner would forever remain a mystery. It was fortunate that holding hands, sharing soft kisses and food, and playing footsie was considered publicly acceptable romantic behavior._

_Since then, things had obviously evolved into behavior inappropriate for public places, but despite the heightened desire, she made no move to join their bodies, and he didn’t push for it either._

_He was happy to hold, kiss and fondle his wife, his bride._

_Once again overcome by emotions, he let himself fall back on his back and stared up at her. She was glorious sitting on him without a stitch of clothes covering her. She didn’t shy away from his gaze, didn’t try to hide, simply allowed him to look for as long as he wanted, waiting for his eyes to meet hers._

_When they did, she smiled at him softly and ran her hands over his stomach and chest._

_After a phase of self-doubt and insecurity about her looks and body almost two decades ago – very much thanks to him and his idiotic, inexcusable behavior – she had regained her confidence, and he had done everything he could to feed it. She was the one for him, and he made it clear that he desired her and only her every opportunity he got. He had come so close to losing her back then, it made today even more special._

_He cupped her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs, making her moan just a little bit louder. She wasn’t the thin young woman who had first captured his attention and heart anymore, but that didn’t make him love her less or diminish his craving for her body. He, too, had changed since their early days, had lost the beard and the color of his hair, had gained and lost weight, lacked some of the stamina he used to have. But despite all the changes, she still looked at him with the same love and devotion, and he knew himself to be enthralled by her in the same way. They had a deep connection that had weathered time and continued to grow stronger still._

_As he concentrated on her chest, she reached down to cup his testicles. He groaned, halted his motion for a moment._

_They locked eyes again, silently agreeing to move things along. Without breaking the visual bond, she got onto her knees and then slowly sank down on his hard length._

 

They had continued to draw out the experience until it was physically impossible for them to hold back any longer. Afterwards, they had cuddled close and reveled in the moment. It had been way past midnight when they had finally succumbed to sleep. With the freedom to sleep in and do absolutely nothing for a change, they could indulge this luxury of a carefree late night together they rarely got to enjoy.

Her head resting comfortably on his chest, she looked up at him and asked, “What do you wanna do today?”

Upon her question, that boyish grin of his lit up his face. “You,” he said and flipped their positions.

His unapologetic enthusiasm and playfulness made her laugh.

This was definitely a vacation they would not write home about.


	3. Chapter 3

_When the waiter had left, he fished his cell out of his jacket before covering her left hand with his, fingers spread, his resting between hers._

_Guessing his intention, the frown that had formed on her face upon seeing the phone vanished and was replaced by a soft smile. She reached for the device and took a photo of their hands._

_“Send it to me, please,” she said, giving him the phone back._

_“Shall I send it to Chelsea, too?”_

_She shook her head. “Better not. It would only lead to a long list of questions. The first one being ‘What did you do now?’ I love our daughter, but I want to spend this honeymoon just with you. We’ll tell her when we’re back home.”_

 

They had returned to Chappaqua two days ago, and today was the day to face the music. Their daughter was coming over for lunch with the grandchildren.

They were both thankful for years of training at covering nervousness. This wasn’t an important speech in front of thousands of people, though, and somehow telling their daughter that they had renewed their vows in secret seemed worse.

 

“So, how was the vacation? You’ve been pretty quiet about it,” Chelsea inquired.

They shared a wistful glance and smile that their daughter picked up on immediately.

“Mom, dad, what’s going on?”

Hillary steeled herself and looked her daughter in the eyes. “We had a second wedding.”

Chelsea studied her mother’s face for a few seconds. “You’re not kidding.”

“No, she’s not,” Bill confirmed.

“I can’t believe you had the guts to ask her again, dad.” 

The two most important women in his life burst into laughter. He tried to look hurt, but failed, instead he joined them in their amusement. “To be honest, neither can I.”

“Now, please tell me there are pictures!”

“Sorry, honey,” Hillary said.

“Well…” Bill contradicted his wife and handed his phone to their daughter.

 

_In order to cool his nerves, he had put away his vow and started reading the news on his phone while waiting for her to get ready. Putting on a suit – a dark grey three-piece – and running a comb through short hair took him less time than she needed when she decided to doll herself up. While he truly wouldn’t have minded if she had opted for sweatpants and no make-up, he was looking forward to seeing the fruits of her effort._

_She didn’t disappoint._

_“Ready to go?” she asked as she exited the bedroom and took his breath away, wearing a burgundy knee-length dress with a matching jacket, the edges trimmed with black lace, her hair carefully coiffed, the lipstick matching the clothes._

_To capture the moment, though, he had to feign nonchalance and not stare at her._

_“Give me a moment to finish this,” he said, raising his phone, pretending to read the last paragraphs of an article when actually snapping a photo of his beautiful wife._

_Once the picture was saved, he pocketed the phone and walked over to her._

_“You leave me breathless,” he said._

_“They were out of burlap,” she joked._

_He laughed. “Thank God, because I love this.” He traced the edge of the jacket with his fingers down her body. “You look absolutely stunning.”_

_“Thank you. And may I say that you look pretty handsome yourself?”_

_“I’m glad you approve.”_

_“Oh, I definitely approve,” she assured him, her tone slightly suggestive. “So, ready to go?”_

_“I’m always ready to marry you, but yes…” He patted himself down, checking his pockets. “I got everything.” With a smile, he offered her his arm. “Shall we, Miss Rodham?”_

 

“I can’t believe you did that!”

“Oh, I can, mom. You look amazing. And I love the ring, dad,” she complimented her parents as she looked at the only two pictures of them from that day. “You certainly are the masters of understated weddings,” she observed.

“This time, it took quite a bit more planning to actually achieve that,” Hillary said. “Planning this in a week would have led to chaos and lots of people finding out.”

“I’m impressed and a bit shocked that I haven’t read about it on the internet, yet.”

“You have no idea how relieved we are that this didn’t leak. I would have hated for you to find out that way. Sorry for not inviting you or telling you sooner.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” She kissed both her parents on the cheek. “I’m happy for you.”

~

“That went well,” he noted without a trace of irony once Chelsea had packed up her children again and left, teasingly saying goodbye to the “newlyweds”.

“Thank God it did. I would have hated having hurt her.”

“Me, too,” he agreed while wrapping his arms around her from behind. Hugging her close, he began nibbling at her ear.

Like a reflex, she leaned her head to the side to allow him better access before she caught herself when he lightly suckled at her neck.

She turned around to look at him. “Now?”

“I’m just married, I’m socially expected to lust after my wife, constantly.”

“So that’s why you wanted to get married again,” she joked.

“Absolutely,” he confirmed, tongue in cheek.

“Well, then what are you waiting for?” Her eyes twinkled.

“Nothing.” He covered her mouth with his and stirred her in the direction of their bedroom.

 

The End.


End file.
